


I Love But Don't Know How To

by KellerProcess



Category: Mad Max Series (Movies)
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M, Multi, Prostitution, as part of the People Eater's backstory, cw: Immortan Joe, discussions of autonomy and bad leadership, gunfucking, more tags to follow so be warned that this might contain additional content warnings, this is actually kind of a sweet love story despite all that
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-12
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-07-14 16:11:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7179209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KellerProcess/pseuds/KellerProcess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before they were The Bullet Farmer and The People Eater, Major Kalashnikov and Richard Smith were two young, unhappy men with a wide-open future. What if they'd made different choices than the ones that led the to becoming two of the most feared men in the Wasteland? A Fury Road AU. Can be read as a prequel to "Bad and Free" (Overwatch/Fury Road AU of doom) but events don't perfectly match up, of course.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [baixue88](https://archiveofourown.org/users/baixue88/gifts), [ahimsabitches](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ahimsabitches/gifts).



Richard’s new owners were ruffians. Simple, unimaginative—far less sexually adventurous than Bartertown’s residents, but far more grabby. In all honesty, they seemed unsure just what to do with him beyond bending him over and taking their turns. He wondered if the five hundred gallons of water they’d traded for him had been worth it; he certainly felt shortchanged.

They were also terrible shots. The former MFP officers had easily overtaken them and slaughtered them. The one named Roop would surely have treated him to a lively, but ultimately fatal, round of foreplay had not the colonel and his men shown up.

The colonel’s brutality, though, is far more to Richard’s tastes. On his band’s trek farther into the interior in search of the aquifer—the existence of which their leader doubts—Joe Moore takes him aside and rather unceremoniously divests Richard of his underwear—the sole possession he had left. 

“Every man here works,” he explains, heavy hands on Richard’s shoulders, pushing down. 

And Richard smiles and opens his mouth as the colonel opens his fly. _From each according to his ability, to each according to his needs_ , he thinks. My, but Joe Moore is a generous fellow! And so are his men. With their leader churlishly keeping the few women they have captured to himself, Richard’s is the only red light in the Wasteland. And they come, and come again, happy customers all. Though none are fool enough to mar him permanently, he bears the marks as proof of it, and payment.

Indeed, the only unhappy camper among Moore’s Merrie Men is the major.


	2. Chapter 2

Kalashnikov is a man of interests that are as few as they are dull. They do not include sex, camaraderie, or smiling. They do, quite obviously, include guns—and making Richard’s life a misery with or without them. The major’s foul vocabulary and twitchiness bespeaks a man no older than twenty-five, but his hatchet face and mangle of a mouth adds a good twenty years. Were it not for the brightness of his eyes and the lack of lines on his ugly face, Richard would think him far older than the colonel himself. He is always glaring with those bright, green eyes, and always snarling with that ruined mouth—usually at Richard these days. 

“You’re holdin’ up the entire goddamn camp, Fat Boy! Move it or Sara ’n’ Jane here’ll teach you to dance!” when Richard takes a few seconds too long to pack up his tent after a long, taxing night of earning his keep. Why he’s named two semiautomatic guns such ridiculous things, Richard couldn’t begin to fathom.

“Sorry the food ain’t to your liking” when he is in charge of handing out the day’s rations. “But if you want, I could feed you a bullet instead.”

“If you’re lyin’ to him, Piggy, I’ll shove a Mauser so far up your baggy arsehole you’ll be puking lead for a year” or some variant of it every morning, afternoon, evening, and night. Well, he certainly thinks a lot about which guns can fit in human orifices, Richard will give him that. 

“Don’t let the boy get to you,” Lucky Orange tells him one night after a particularly hard fuck. “The colonel lost interest in him a few months ago, and he ain’t forgiven you that blowjob yet.”

So sex is one of his interests after all, Richard thinks as Lucky rolls him over for a second round of just that. But apparently only with men he loves. And really, he can only imagine the endless heat and lack of enough water is making him addlepated, or he would have twigged it sooner. The major’s face only ever softens when he looks at Moore, and only falls when the colonel doesn’t look back with anything but cool regard, or, indeed, even at all. 

And then Richard wonders how he ever could have thought the boy old, or without passion.


	3. Chapter 3

Typically, the colonel is far too busy with his women to have a care for the camp’s resident whore, but a week into their journey, he summons Richard into his truck and demands more of him than a blowjob. The act leaves Richard far more exhausted and in pain than satisfied, but the punch Kalashnikov delivers not five minutes after Richard’s release doesn’t particularly hurt. It only makes him tired.

That’s just it. He is so very _tired_ of this boy and his bratty behavior.

When Richard punches him back, Kalashnikov is so thunderstruck he doesn’t even reach for one of the many guns festooning him like plumage. Perhaps he thought this “fat boy’s” arms too soft and weak to deliver more than the flabbiest of stings. 

Perhaps the major needs to learn a thing or two about fat boys.

“I am tired of these high school antics, Major,” Richard informs him. “And I am tired of you. If you are going to shoot me, have done with it, only stop this adolescent nonsense!”

 _It is beneath you_ , he wants to add for some reason. 

The colonel storms out of his truck before he can think why.

“Is there a problem here, Kalashnikov?” he asks, piercing his subordinate with those glacial eyes of his. 

And Kalashnikov shivers as though the world had just entered a new ice age. His own eyes become soft, cast down, and oh, Richard thinks, this is familiar. If he had any possessions left, he would bet them all on the boy wanting to kneel right now.

“No, sir.” A growl, but all the fight is gone.

“Hmm,” Moore says, as if he’s thinking. But Richard knows what he has planned long before the colonel grabs Kalashnikov by the bicep and snaps his fingers at Richard.

“You,” he says, “back in the truck.”


End file.
